


maps, from me to you

by tothemoon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Amusement Parks, Canon Era, Closets, Freeform, Friends to Lovers, Hinata POV, M/M, Non-Chronological, Photographs, Post-Canon, Tight Spaces, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 15:29:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4105938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tothemoon/pseuds/tothemoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a (non-chronological) account of the memories they make out of millimeters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	maps, from me to you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aroceu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroceu/gifts).



> For the Haikyuu!! Summer Holidays Exchange. First of all, I would like to say sorry for butchering the original prompt, because I had a hard time including Oikawa extensively. But I did notice in your "dear creator" letter that you wanted to see long fic and mentioned the idea of small spaces. Using the latter, this fic honestly took on a mind of it's own, and I hope you like the result, Aro ;_; 
> 
> Here's to kagehina, and I hope you like this!

  

 

**_i. the thunder dolphin (tokyo, japan)_ **

They are in the summer of the second year by the time Kageyama tells him he's never been on a roller coaster. 

" _What_?"

"You heard me."

At the offhanded confession, Hinata nearly spits out his blue shaved ice, swallows it down like rocks, and offers Kageyama a pointed finger to the sky. _Well,_ maybe not as high as that—Hinata joins Kageyama in peering at Tokyo Dome City's one and only _Thunder Dolphin,_ all eighty meters of height and, as Hinata would later learn, the sixth highest roller coaster in the world. Blinking, Kageyama's eyes go wide too, all without a trace of the usual grimace in his eyes; Hinata watches him go from crab to cherub in that moment, unabashedly excited like he's touching the ball for a jump serve, and at this Hinata resists the urge to laugh.

"Let's go," Kageyama tells Hinata like they're about to climb mountain peaks, eyes still glued on the loops of steel and fresh white paint. He blinks when another set of carts comes rushing by, piercing through the hoop of the adjoining Ferris wheel.

When Hinata looks back at the crowds, he wonders where the rest of their friends have gone behind them. He spots Kenma sitting on a bench with his PSP already out ( _"It's too hot for this, Shouyou, and I hate waiting in lines"_ ) while Nishinoya and Tanaka have already committed to the haunted funhouse down the street. Ennoshita and the other third years are too busy catching up with Daichi, Suga, and Asahi on the snack line (because even though they've spent a whole season here in the city for university and work, they're still _very_ much a part of the team, Tokyo training camps included) while Tsukishima and Yamaguchi are no where to be seen at all. Hinata guesses they've snuck off to see the dinosaur IMAX show on the other side of the park, judging by the _oh-so_ nonchalant way Tsukishima was eyeing the brochures for it before, pressing his glasses up his face to get a better look.

"Don't you want to wait for everyone else?" Hinata asks, looking back toward Kageyama. "I mean, roller coasters are the best when you have a group going with you. That way, you can hear all your friends scream at once."

Kageyama shakes his head. "The line's long. Can't we go first and then do it again when everyone's ready to?"

"But that's also the fun part. You wait in line with your friends so you can grumble together," Hinata tells him with a smile. "Geez, Kageyama, you really know how to take the fun out of things, don't you?" he jokes next, patting his setter on the back.

Peering down, Hinata watches the way their feet clamor up the sidewalk anyway, set on riding the _Thunder Dolphin._ He keeps his sights pressed on the ground so Kageyama doesn't see the wobbly frown form on his face, because he's been taking notice of things like this far too often lately—the way their feet move in unison, the gleam of wide set eyes, the mere thought of being _alone_ with Kageyama—and he thinks he might need to distance himself a little better.

Shifting away by mere millimeters, it doesn't take Hinata more than a few seconds to gravitate back to Kageyama anyway. It has always been like this. Because all their fights about stupid things, important things, that fading insistence that they can't possibly be friends, _not in a million years,_ Hinata understands that the two of them will never be too far from each other. Because if they did not break in Saitama a year ago, they certainly won't now. _I want to keep my eyes open,_ he had told Kageyama back then, and he knows things will never change. It would be impossible to keep his eyes off Kageyama anymore, even if he really wanted to.

 _I’d like to stand next to you._ It was just the way things came to be—quietly—much in the same way important things have always come for them, all despite that expectation to _bicker_. Like that first toss, or that call to try that new quick, Hinata only knows their milestones by still air and soundless calls, a busy world stopping time to mark the occasion. 

"I wouldn't know the first thing about _amusement park manners_ ," Kageyama retorts with a shrug, tearing his sights away from the middle blocker and staring up at the entrance sign instead.

Hinata sighs. "Yeah, yeah, I know, you've never gone." 

"Because no one would go with me." When Kageyama mutters this, it is more a-matter-of-fact than anything, but as much as Kageyama's learned to notice Hinata, Hinata thinks he might know him, too. It has come with their milestones. Hinata watches the way Kageyama's shoulders slump, like a shrug that forgot to go through the motions, while that familiar pout flicks itself across his face.

Because though Hinata still has a hard time admitting it sometimes, that Kageyama Tobio is his _friend_ , he remembers the years he might've spent alone, thinks how that must feel a billion times worse, like a pesky adhesive that never quite loses its stickiness, and promises, quietly, to ride the _Thunder Dolphin_ with him. 

"You must be this tall to ride this ride," Kageyama reads off the bulletin board, daring to smirk. "Are you sure you make the cut?"

Hinata inches closer to him again, cautious before watching the slightest smile, not a smirk _,_ form across Kageyama's face, almost as if he’s trying to keep it a secret from the park. Together, they enter the queue, falling into the smallest bouts of silence between conversation on the long and winding line. (" _Have you tried cotton candy before, Kageyama?" "Yeah, and I don’t like it." "Because your hands get all sticky after?" "It’s gross as hell."_ )When the carts rush down the tracks again, Hinata points to the first car and insists they'll be the ones to conquer the coaster. He falls into his longer stories, like the time Izumin held his arms up the entire ride one time in middle school, or how Natsu insisted that they ride the carousel instead. Kageyama listens, occasionally opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but he never does. Briefly, Hinata wonders about the kind of stories he’d tell. 

And when they do make it to the front car—Hinata on the left, and Kageyama on the right—the train flies up the track and slows on the way uphill. With shoulders almost touching, he looks over at Kageyama, sees the way he holds his breath like he might die, and laughs, mouth wide.

They reach the peak in no time and drop in the next instance. Hinata opens his mouth wide and yells, like he’s supposed to, but notices an important thing before getting his head whipped back on the seat. Chin down, body hunched inward, it takes Kageyama a few seconds to actually let himself scream, heart out _._ With it comes a smile, wild and willing and gaping, and Hinata seeks to press it into his memory like a candid in a scrapbook. 

(And when Hinata raises his arms for the next drop, the biggest one on the entire circuit, he takes Kageyama’s arm up in the air too, just for that split second, and lets him feel the rush of the world below them too.)

 

 

**_ii. under the covers (hinata's bed)_ **

With a throbbing in his cheek, Hinata grazes over the spot where Tanaka punched him with a ginger touch, imagines that Kageyama was the one to do it instead, and pretends to hate him.

"Stupid Kageyama," he whispers, stirring under the blankets. "Go to hell."

The thing is, Hinata knows that pretending is different from _actually_ hating someone, because that is not something that comes to Hinata easily at all. Sometimes, he’s convinced that it doesn’t, despite everyone’s penchant to _undervalue_ and _underestimate_. Because Hinata has certainly felt small before— _small_ is what’s gotten him this far after all—but he has never let it hold him back. In fact, Hinata has built himself on _small_ ; for all the times he has seen giants rush up the net and make their own names, the 190-centimeter upstarts who claim themselves as _aces,_ Hinata has sucked up all his inclinations to stay on the ground and follow the sight of them. He knows to join them in the sky instead. He swears he’ll stretch millimeters into miles.

 _I’m going to grow and grow and grow, and I’m going to get better,_ Hinata thinks, as he winds himself up more under the blankets, hand reaching out across the futon as if hitting a ball, heart beating in an absolute fury. It crawls up his throat, makes him choke back, and begs to be heard from the hollow of a gaping mouth. _Acknowledge_ me, _see_ me, _hear_ me. _Let me stand with you._

In memory and expectation, he imagines Kageyama setting the ball under him, the clean sling of an arm's release following right after. In landing, Hinata stands next to him, breathing in deep and looking on towards the summit. _That is the way things should go._ Hinata knows he was never meant to hide like this. 

 _I’m going to grow and grow and grow,_ Hinata chants to himself again, letting that heart sit like a heavy knot. It is something he will never let rest.

_I just wish you'd join me, too._

 

 

**_iii. between the seat and the stand (hinata's bicycle, at the bottom of the mountain pass)_ **

When Hinata races down the last hill separating him from his second autumn at Karasuno High School, he finds Kageyama at the very bottom, stops too short on the brakes, and ends up flopping over on the handlebars next to him.

"What the hell, Kageyama?" Hinata berates, mouth spitting up dirt and pebbles. “Way to scare me like that!” He wobbles back up onto his feet and brushes his knees off, uniform all scuffed up before he's even had the chance to step foot into school. When he realizes the futility of brushing the dirt off his blazer, all nice and previously pressed by his mother for the first day of the fall season, he groans and offers Kageyama a shameful nod of the head, the small purse of his lips. 

"I could've died you know, just from seeing that scary face of yours." 

"Well, you didn't."

"How reassuring of you." 

With a grumble, Kageyama bends down, picks a dandelion from the the grass, and offers it to him as a begrudging apology. Hinata leers at the sight of it, takes it with the pinch of his fingers—miffed as anyone in the morning would be—and decides to accept the tiny gesture anyway.

“I just had my morning run,” Kageyama says, fully dressed in his school uniform, no trace of sweat on him, “and I happened to pass by the road you take, so…” When he trails off, he doesn’t dare look Hinata in the eye, shrugging and finding the right words to say. “So, I mean, _yeah_ , it’s not like I was waiting for you, or anything. I mean, running into you is _okay_ and all—”

“ _Good morning_ , Kageyama,” Hinata says as deadpan as he can muster, taking the setter’s hand into his and swaying it gently in the start of the day’s haze. Kageyama does a whole-body twitch. With his face somewhere between a frown and a smile, it settles into the latter before muddling into complete and utter bashfulness. Hinata can’t help but laugh at this, a reflex over the rare sighting of _a genuine Kageyama smile,_ and feels the way his own face lights up, too. At this, Hinata challenges himself against the tide of all things that have been unprecedented between the two of them, holds on harder, and determines that linking hands should _not_ be this difficult. 

Still, Hinata’s face warms uncomfortably at the touch, and he guesses Kageyama’s is too from how he’s got his eyes glued to the floor. They don’t move from the side of the road, because it’s rare to get time alone like this in between practice and matches and class, so they treat these moments of silence like all the others: an exercise in _getting used to things,_ because everything important about them has been just that. Trial and error. A reminder to keep trying. _Because no matter how many tries it takes, we’ll get there,_ Hinata thinks _. We will make our strides._  

Kageyama turns his nose upward and offers a frown, keeping their hands held. “And what are you looking so determined for?”

“I just had the feeling that maybe I wanna kiss you today,” Hinata says bluntly, blinking wide eyes into submission. The request leaves his mouth a lot easier than he ever imagined, and the notion of it just leaves Kageyama even more stiff than usual. 

“What?”

“I don’t know. I mean, you get all nervous just from holding my hand, so maybe I thought a kiss would make you less _blushy_ about something so small.”

"I don't _blush_."

"You don't have to be ashamed, Kageyama," Hinata reassures him. "It happens to everyone!"

"You know what?" Kageyama asks softly.

"What?" Hinata perks up. 

“How about I kick your ass instead?”

Hinata frowns back and clicks his tongue. “What, like you actually did your morning run in your _uniform?_ You came here to see me, right?”

Kageyama doesn’t say anything. His eyes just soften into something even rarer than the specimen of a real smile, a small tenderness Hinata might be inching closer and closer to each day, and at this, Hinata lets himself run this drill too. _Kissing 101._ Hands lightly perched on his shoulders, index fingers grazing both sides of Hinata’s shirt collar, Kageyama leans in as much as Hinata raises himself on his toes, and he’s so close he can probably hear hinata gulp down the lump in his throat. Hinata watches Kageyama shut his eyes hard before relaxing, just as he might let himself drift off, too. _I'm going to kiss Kageyama Tobio for the first time,_ Hinata keeps telling himself. Some strides are bigger than others. 

And just before their lips meet for the first time, breaths mixed, space closed, Hinata feels their knees knock and his legs crumble under him. 

"Ow," he says, when he realizes one of his knees sting like none other. When they both look down, Hinata notices the ragged hole in his dress pants, a cut on his knee like he's five and scraped up again. Caught up in the mess of things, he doesn't realize just how many scrapes he's got all over, tiny scratches and achy joints like he's been rolling in thickets all afternoon. At the sight, Kageyama just rolls his eyes, leaves Hinata in the dandelions, and goes to pick up his bicycle from the gravel.

"Hop on," Kageyama tells him, all sorts of huffy. "We can bandage your knee up at school," he says, cringing just a bit at it before looking away.

"I can still ride," Hinata insists. "It doesn't hurt, and don't think I forgot how you almost drove us into the _riverbank_ last time." 

" _Listen,_ dumbass, it was raining, and I was rushing," Kageyama refutes. "Plus, if you get injured, you won't be doing the team any good. So come on,” he insists further, holding out an outstretched hand. In defeat, Hinata hobbles over, taking his offer and setting himself on the stand behind the seat. Kageyama sits down too, and before Hinata knows it, he's taken off and they’re on their way to school. 

"Hey, Kageyama." 

"Yeah?"

"This reminds me of something," Hinata observes.

"Does it?"

"Yep. Like I'm in one of those dramas my mom watches at night. A young couple riding through the fields, laughing, going _ha ha ha_! It's summer, and there are wildflowers everywhere."

"Gross. And it's not even summer." 

"Have some imagination, you _grump_." 

Kageyama scoffs and gives a light shake of his head. Feet on the pedals, he never rushes. Down the hills and across the small bridge over the riverbank, he ambles through the cool air, letting the light strain of his breath carry the silence. With it, Hinata just thinks of the dull throbbing on his knees like a slow beat, _badum badum badum._ He’s tempted to ask why the body beats so readily for different things, in different places, using different gaps and spaces in time. _Badum badum badum,_ he mouths, when he feels the same sensation come faster in his chest. _Badum badum badum._ Kageyama rides on.

Hinata wonders about the silence. Kageyama should be nagging by now, loud enough to make echos in the hills. At this, Hinata leans over and spots the pink blotchiness of Kageyama’s cheek, the smile that insists it isn’t one at all, and gets his answer that way, too. 

“Hey, Kageyama,” Hinata calls again, intentionally pesky.

“ _What_?” 

“We can try kissing again later, if that’s what you want,” Hinata tells him, taking the liberty of resting his head against the top of his setter’s back. Maybe he can hear Kageyama’s beating this way, too. However, at the touch, the offer, Kageyama really does crash this time, taking the two of them down the hill and just short of the water below.

Hinata laughs hard amongst the dandelions and Kageyama is fuming so hard he’s stuttering with his profanities, but Hinata does not take that as a _no._

"I'm going to kill you," he insists.

Hinata just lies back on the grass and covers his face with both hands, smiling hard into the plush of his palm. He bites his lip and wonders if the joy will escape the space between his fingers. 

(Later that morning, when they’re sitting alone outside the gym together, sticking band-aids and rubbing alcohol on each other, cringing at the sting and the ridiculousness of the _Tikachu_ bandage designs, Kageyama tries to sweep in with that first kiss long sought after. He misses when Hinata suddenly turns his face, landing on his cheek instead, and angrily presses a band-aid in the same spot to cover up his folly.)

(Hinata just leans into him, laughing, letting himself close the distance again. Step by step, inch by inch, he takes the leap when he is the first to kiss Kageyama, small and light and barely a touch at all, but it’s real enough to send the both of them into brand new stratospheres.)

 

 

 

**_iv. row five (the movie theater)_ **

Hinata is a talker, and Kageyama is not. This is something they come to learn about each other when they're sitting in a movie theater on a Sunday, dead of winter during their first year, bound together by the promise of movie theater gift certificates and the fact that Kageyama had no one else to go with. When they watch the protagonist of _Kakeru’s Volleyball_ bound up for a spike, the supernatural way his hands initiate his special attack, the ridiculous _comet crush,_ Hinata laughs, stifles it when Kageyama shoots him a scowl, and decides not to care. Looking around, it’s not like there’s a lot of people here to watch the movie _anyway,_ so he inches closer and asks if he thinks it’s cooler sounding than Nishinoya’s _rolling thunder._

“Why are you talking to me?” Kageyama asks, nudging Hinata’s arm off the seat rest.

“Because there’s no one else here, and movies are more fun when you get to chat with someone, don’t you think?”

Kageyama just moves over one seat, leaving them with the gulf of a chair cushion between them. “I’m never coming here with you again,” he shout-whispers over to the middle blocker, just as the other protagonist, Kakeru, sets with the _vanishing toss_. Darting a glance over the screen, Kageyama turns back at Hinata and shifts over one seat, leaning over and pointing. “ _See_ , you made me miss Kakeru’s special move!”

Hinata frowns back, incredulous. “I thought you’d hate this movie for sure. What if _Tsukishima_ found out about this? He’d make fun of you until the end of time, Kageyama.” 

“That’s why you’ll never say a _word_ about this,” Kageyama says a little too loudly, and a rare patron in the back urges them to _shut up._ Shaking it off, Kageyama just shifts over all the way to the wall where he can watch the movie in peace, leaving Hinata with their share of half-eaten popcorn and boxed candy. In the dark, Hinata exchanges looks with him, still awkward at these solo hangouts ( _friend hangouts_ , he tries to tell himself for the millionth time) and offers a shrug. 

With a deep breath, Hinata remembers Suga’s words. _You know, you guys have come a long way since the summertime, but sometimes, you can learn even more about a teammate from the time you spend outside the court._ He remembers the way Suga winked to Daichi and Asahi at the team raffle a week ago, and how Kageyama shifted uncomfortably at the sight of free movie tickets. _Admit two_ , best seats in the house, morning showing.

With a tingle racing up the back of his neck, Hinata also recalls just how Kageyama had asked him to come with him. The question had come right after practice, on the steps outside the gym where they had first met, and it was more of a command than anything. _We’re going to watch a movie, and then we’re going to keep practicing that quick for the spring._ The volleyball rests firmly under Kageyama’s abandoned seat.

Hinata leers over at Kageyama again, and the way the colors morph and change on his face. Blue flashes across his cheeks like he’s an alien, then pink arrives like he’s blushing. ( _Ugh, never that.)_ From there, he lets the movie carry both of them into silence, the space of seven whole seats to separate them, and decides to let Kageyama have his way this time. 

So quiet is what Hinata remains, even if he can’t stay focused on the rest of the movie. When he dozes off, he thinks about all sorts of things, like winning against Ushijima at finals, a spike more marvelous than _the comet crush,_ and the lights changing color on the skin of Kageyama’s cheek. In glimpses, like looking through the thorny underbrush of a stinging memory, Hinata sees that same cheek, grazed by a fight over tosses and seeing the court. He remembers the stretch of distance between them, then, like an endless obstacle course in a summer of record-highs.

Hinata tells himself he never wants to feel that far again. Fortunately—for some people—that distance never widens.

When Hinata wakes up, head tipping back up from rest, Kageyama’s back in his regular seat. He knows this because he’s found himself perched on the tip of his shoulder, still too drowsy to quite move, their arms grazing by a shared armrest, and it feels _nice_ , somehow, like the warmth of someone he’d like to call a friend. Hinata gets up, wipes the sleep from his eyes, and stares up at the rolling credits. The two protagonists of _Kakeru’s Volleyball_ are sharing a fistbump after their first win against the other team, and they seem happier than none other. 

At this, Hinata raises a fist, too. He doesn’t say a word about it, but he can’t help but laugh. _Kageyama Tobio gets emotional about a movie about supernatural volleyball. His eyes go wide at the training montages._

Still, Kageyama doesn’t scold him. Lights changing color around them again, his face stays a solid shade of red, and his mouth fumbles in trying to form words. When the credits fade up the screen and into nothing, he turns to Hinata and finds the gall to say it.

“Thanks for coming with me.”

With a warmth in his chest, inexplicable yet familiar, Hinata feels their worlds shift closer and the continents traverse whole leagues. _You’ve come a long way,_ Suga says again, and Hinata only wishes for even smoother roads ahead.

Kageyama returns Hinata’s fist bump, knocking with utmost caution.

 

 

 ** _v. a four-picture photo booth (tokyo, japan)_**  
  
On the first picture, Kageyama does not make a face. They are smiling, and it’s sort of forced, but Hinata thinks it’s funny so he tells himself this is a good start.

On the second one, he does, but it’s no where near as exaggerated as Hinata’s tongue-to-cheek and flaring nostrils. He safely proclaims it as, _“the ugliest picture of us I’ve ever seen.”_ Hinata secretly thinks it is art. 

On the third one, they’re caught in a candid shot, mid-argument over the sort of pose they should do next. Kageyama had insisted on finger guns while Hinata called for peace signs, and the picture had captured as much; with an index finger smushed against Hinata’s nose and a _v-for-victory_ blocking a good portion of Kageyama’s face, the former would later admit that this was probably the most _honest_ picture of them in the bunch. 

“Hey, Hinata, close your eyes.”

Hinata doesn’t even catch a glimpse of the fourth until they’re back in their new apartment in Saitama. When he whines that a certain setter is being stingy about the pictures, Kageyama just pulls the strips out of his pocket, hands it over to Hinata without a word, and waits for him to get to the fourth panel. In the snapshot, Kageyama is holding up a note, one that Hinata can barely read, but he blushes at the message.

_Sorry, I don’t want our first kiss in Tokyo to be in a photobooth. So I’ll kiss you back at home._

When Hinata looks up, this is what Kageyama does, when their shoes are barely off and they’ve still got shopping bags in their hands.

 

 

 

**_vi. a shared desk (karasuno high school)_ **

It is the precipice of their first summer when Hinata watches Kageyama write out the kanji for _hesitation,_ effortless between faded blue notebook lines.

“I don’t get how you’re so dumb at school when you can memorize kanji like _that_ ,” Hinata remarks, and Kageyama just kicks him under their shared desk, to which the former dodges easily. Without a word, the setter continues on, hands messy with the ink but perfect nonetheless, and Hinata can’t help but think that his strokes look more and more fluid with each passing character. He wonders how they had ended up together like this anyway—almost tangled by the legs, really—but seeks not to let it bother him. In secret glances, Hinata purses his lips and peeks at Kageyama, who continues onto the next problem set for contemporary lit. 

"I know you're looking at me," he tells Hinata, and the latter thinks to damn his setting senses just this once. "Stop staring and save that intensity for game time."

Hinata just hunches over the table top and stays there, teasing Kageyama by not looking away. "You have a good memory, don't you? Memorizing all those kanji, those hand signs for matches. What's your secret, huh?" 

"What?" Kageyama looks up and stops what he's doing. "There's no secret to it."

"Stop being stingy."

Kageyama puts down his pen and picks up his workbook again. "Here," he says to Hinata, lending him his copy. "Pick any kanji you'd like and I'll write it. It's just like...strokes and stuff. _Boxes_. A dash here, a dash there." 

"That's not explaining it at all," Hinata pouts, but he thinks he might get it. He points to a random character on the page, one he has not yet memorized, and watches Kageyama cringe at the sight of it. He writes it anyway, because he never backs down from a challenge, and Hinata notices that this one has come a lot easier than the rest. From there Kageyama just takes a bunch of glances out the window, face scrunched up for reasons Hinata can't place. _Kageyama reasons,_ Hinata just thinks, because there's no one else like _the king_ in this place.

Kageyama shows Hinata the character again. He writes it out once more for good measure.

"Hinata, how do you not know what this kanji means?" Kageyama asks. "You can see the radical for _heart_ right at the bottom. You should've learned this one in middle school." 

Hinata shrugs. "Maybe I missed that one. What is it, Kageyama?" 

Bluntly, with eyes lowered, Kageyama says it. " _To love dearly._ Adore. Yearning." When he utters these words, he looks like he's just swallowed something bitter. Hinata almost wants to laugh about it, but he manages to hold it in on the off chance Kageyama's feeling murderous today. Still, Hinata lets the smallest giggle through, eats it up immediately, and fails again when he imagines Kageyama as one those shoujo manga boys, or a TV drama protagonist. _Horrendous,_ he thinks, but not completely so. It’s not like he’s completely despicable.

Kageyama reaches over and pinches one of Hinata's cheeks. Hinata laughs even more and feels something like static form his toes, a bubbling, _pop pop pop,_ in his hollow stomach, but he does not fret over the sensation. Perhaps this is what they mean about making a new friend, because he has always known to equate warmth to such things, and because he's never wrong about the feelings in his gut. _We could be friends, I think,_ he dares to think, for better or worse. He gulps down the urge to put it into words, because his _gut_ says that _it is not yet time_.

"Well, now that I've taught you, you better know it for the exam," Kageyama says with a scowl.

"But you didn't even teach me anything _._ " 

Again, Kageyama tries to kick Hinata under the desk, fails, and the rumble ends up sending an eraser off the edge to its untimely death. At this, Hinata offers nothing but a smile again, baring tiny fangs as if to say, _I won’t lose._  

"I'll know it for next time, don't worry." 

Kageyama picks up his pen, scribbles out the character again and "How about you avoid picking such embarrassing ones to begin with?"

"It's just a word, isn't it?" Hinata fires back, shrugging. "Shouldn't bother you, if it's got nothing to do with volleyball."

"Sure it does," Kageyama answers back just a little too quickly. "Like, you know, it's...it's—"

" _Gwaah,_ or _bwaah?"_ Hinata asks, instinctively putting a hand over his chest because maybe he does get it. "Right in the heart? Because you _adore_ volleyball."

"I guess." Kageyama builds himself up into a nod. “Yeah.”

"Then maybe you're right for once."

Kageyama just clicks his tongue, offers a scowl with only a second's worth of bite, and tells Hinata to get back to work. In the peace of things, summer extending the day into an endless expanse of blue ahead, Hinata just stares out the window, looks back to find Kageyama scribbling the same character over and over, like he really is pressing it to memory once and for all, and Hinata just sighs, picks up his pen, and does the same.

The both of them drop their pencils when Tsukishima comes in and teases them about the _preposterous_ notion of writing love letters. _"How cozy,"_ he says at their single desk, to which Kageyama and Hinata exchange their pure chagrin. They end up shuffling their feet away from each other, but Hinata never really thinks about moving from their shared desk by the window. It is a nice place, he thinks, even if empty classrooms feel more like makeshift homes for closer friends. 

“So, where were we?” Kageyama asks, once Tsukishima leaves. 

“You want to keep studying?” Hinata answers with another question.

The setter shrugs and continues to write on. “Well, we have to make it to Tokyo, don’t we?” 

(Hinata offers the halfway between a smile and something ready to ache, thinking about the word never spoken. _Friend._ The word does not quite fit Kageyama, much like the awkward way their knees knock under the table, or kanji not yet learned, and yet they dare to stay, because gravity is gravity, and the pull makes ends meet, each stroke connect.)

 

 

 

**_vii. a broom closet (volleyball camp)_ **

On the return from their second-year excursion to Tokyo, Kageyama and Hinata use what’s left of their summer vacation to volunteer in the town’s _little tykes volleyball camp_ , untangling nets and running after wayward serves.

“I can’t believe this,” Kageyama mutters under his breath, banging on the door. “Oikawa-san! This isn’t funny!”

 _Ya-hoo!_ Hinata hears a hum come from outside, the rhythmic way Oikawa Tooru just knocks on the door, and determines that the former Seijou setter is more flirtatious than he’d ever imagined. Looking back over at Kageyama, Hinata just avoids looking at him in the eye, feels his face heat up like a desk lamp that’s been on too long, and gulps down. He can still feel Kageyama stare him down anyway, and this just makes Hinata’s skin crawl a thousand times worse.

 _“I’m not letting you out until you two resolve your differences,”_ Oikawa singsongs through the door. _“And don’t you worry about cleaning about the gym! Your beloved camp supervisor will do that today.”_

“What _differences_?” Kageyama asks, knowing full well what the problem is.

_“You guys aren’t talking! I mean, you are, but it’s kind of weird between you two. Did chibi-chan and Tobio-chan have a fight recently?”_

“No,” Kageyama answers back.

Hinata almost wants to laugh at that notion. “We always fight!”

_“Ooh, that can’t be it, then, huh? Hm. Ooh, I know! Lover’s spat? Relationship troubles? Because I get that, whenever I fight with Iwa-chan, we’re the same way, you know, and it’s no fun at all—”_

“We’re not together!” Kageyama shouts back, red as all hell. Hinata, equally as flushed, shoots him a bit of a frown, and after that the two of them just bite their tongues in silence. Oikawa doesn’t say anything on the other side, just laughs a bit to himself, and leaves the two of them when a few kids call _Tooru-senpai, Tooru-senpai_ outside. His voice gets further and further away when he scolds his nephew for shooting volleyballs through basketball hoops.

“Damnit!” Kageyama bangs on the door again. “Oikawa-san! Hey!”

Hinata joins him in hollering before settling against the wall, their legs quite tangled in such a cramped space, and waves Kageyama off. He lifts his shirt to wipe the sweat off his brow and keeps himself partially hidden inside it.

“Kageyama, you _are_ antsier than usual,” Hinata observes. At this, Kageyama takes his hands off the door and knocks his head against it, unable to face Hinata. 

“Yeah, and wouldn’t you expect that from me? After what I did?”

Hinata nods. “Yeah. I don’t know—I mean, I’ve never been confessed to. I always thought people waited to do it at the top of the Ferris wheel, just like the movies, but you just sort of _laid it all out there_ the minute we sat down. _I like you, Hinata Shouyou._ ”

“Shut up.” 

 _“Talking! That’s what I like to hear!”_ Oikawa shouts from outside. Hinata can’t help but crack a smile and get closer to Kageyama, who looks about ready to shrink into the floor and hide with the dust bunnies. Kageyama smacks his head against the door again, but Hinata is quick enough to offer a hand over his forehead before it has the chance to reach the mahogany. He lets it stay there, and the both of them relax in the silence. Hinata wonders, briefly, if the lack of air in the broom closet is getting to them.

“You say that was your first time getting confessed to,” Kageyama finally mutters.

“It was,” Hinata reiterates, just as Kageyama tips his chin up. Hinata feels the way the point of his nose hits the cup of his palm before dipping back down. When Kageyama breathes in again, haggard like he’s been running all day, taking home in the form of Hinata’s hand, Hinata equates the sensation to checking someone for a perpetual fever. He even dares to sift through some of Kageyama’s hair, just ever so slightly, with the small wave of a hooked finger.

“That was my first time confessing,” Kageyama admits, not moving an inch. When he closes his eyes, still leaning against the cup of Hinata’s hand, not daring to move, he lets out another mighty sigh and raises his shoulders in a shrugging dance, a rippling of nerves. Hinata feels like wincing at this. _Don’t shrug this off, don’t shrug **me** off, _ he feels like saying, even though he can’t quite put it into words. Reflex brings him closer to Kageyama by the door, bringing him to the sort of proximity that results in cowlicks and mussed up bang strands, but it’s not like the two of them have ever cared about such things. Kageyama turns to him and blinks, fevered head still nestled in his care. 

“I want to kiss you,” he tells Hinata, more annoyed than anything.

“Then we’d be doing things out of order, don’t you think?” Hinata asks innocently.

Kageyama frowns. “Like I know anything about that.” 

“I haven’t even replied to your confession,” Hinata says with the roll of his eyes. “Have a little patience, you _greedy king.”_

“Patience?” Kageyama’s eyes go wide. “ _Out of order?_ ” He puts things together much in the same way Hinata’s putting things together in that instance, too, because _holy shit I think I’m saying yes to his confession._ Cursing instinct, wordless gasps escaping, Hinata tries to back away and ends up taking Kageyama’s hand instead. For all the wild movements he’s ever been known for, all the last ditch effort and deep dives, _just go for it,_ he’s never thought about the way hands just linger together, or how words spill out. _The body is an interesting thing, a dangerous thing,_ he thinks, as he lets his palm stay in Kageyama’s. He doesn’t try to deny the words he’s let slip.

“Do you like me too, then, Hinata?”

Hinata doesn’t have the chance to give his answer when the door comes flying open and the both of them go flying at Oikawa’s feet. He laughs at the sight of their held hands, more tightly bound than before, and just walks away without another word. Mortified, Kageyama just lies there face down, raising his head only to bang it against the floor. Hinata sighs, can’t help but laugh, and goes to catch him by the cup of his palm again.

 

 

 

**_viii. under the covers (kageyama's bed)_ **

When Kageyama is about to fall asleep, his whole body grows still, save for his hands. This is something Hinata's come to notice over the course of a few months, right after their last conversations and final calls of _goodnight,_ because Kageyama's always the first one to go and Hinata's got too much energy to spare. So under the blankets, the dim light of a desk lamp to guide him, Hinata makes his explorations, his world travels, and seeks to know Kageyama Tobio further. 

Hinata counts the tiny moles on his neck again, five in total, and brushes the warm shell of his ear like he's dusting for fossils. He notes the insignificant scar on his collarbone, faded and barely seen, save for the people closest to him, and the way the goosebumps form when Hinata makes even just a ghost's worth of a touch. Lying back down next to him, Hinata just settles deeper against his pillow with a huffy sigh and finds himself even more restless than before.

This is when he sees his hands. Kageyama's fingers twitch between slightly curled and almost outstretched, like he must be dreaming about setting or serving. It would be natural for Kageyama to think about such things, even in his sleep, because he even tells Hinata about it sometimes, on their way home on a shared bicycle, or when they're the last ones to change for an evening. 

_“Most times, I don't really remember my dreams—but when I do, I'm on the center court and the ball's in my hand.”_

_“Don't you ever remember anything else?”_

_“Well, now, I see the others on court, too. And we're winning together.”_  

Hinata scoffs at the thought of such ordinary dreams, how they might warm Kageyama up at night anyway, and seeks to go a step further. To ease those shaking hands, Hinata lets his palm rest in Kageyama's finds a pulse by touching wrists, and finds the beat to fall asleep to.

 

 

 

**_ix. under an umbrella (outside hinata’s house)_ **

“Onii-chan, how come he never comes inside to say hi?”

When Hinata peers out the window with his sister, Natsu, Kageyama is standing next to the family’s plot of hydrangeas, bright yellow umbrella twirling above him in the heavy rain. Hinata laughs, traces the outline of it by the light frost of the window and knocks on it like a bullseye. Kageyama jolts up and looks over his shoulder, offering a small wave of his hand and a shift of gaze back to the opened sky.

“I said that he might scare you if he ever came in the house,” Hinata says with a scoff, putting on his best impression of the setter he can, glare and haircut included. Natsu laughs before rolling her eyes at her big brother.

“That’s not nice,” Natsu says, jabbing Hinata in the arm. 

“I was joking!”

“You better be,” she says. “Because it’s proper that I should meet the person my brother’s kissing.” 

Hinata scowls, _actually scowls,_ and shakes his head furiously at the notion of putting his lips anywhere near _Kageyama Tobio_. “You’re kidding me, right? I would never dream of kissing _him._ Gross!”

Natsu smiles wider than what seems humanly possible, throws up a peace sign, and scuttles away toward the kitchen. She peeks her head through the doorway, keeps those two fingers up, and wiggles them curiously for her brother to see. “I’m going to make a bet with you, onii-chan,” Natsu says. “I bet you’re going to kiss him within the next two years, before you finish high school. One-hundred yen.”

Hinata wonders what they’ve been teaching Natsu in grade school, agrees to the bet with a pinky promise, and watches her bother their mother by the stove. After tying his shoes, he just slings on his messenger bag for extra weekend practice, and leaves out the door with an umbrella of his own. 

Later, when Kageyama and Hinata are making their way down the side of the road, he asks the question. “Say, Kageyama, why did you even come all the way here? Did you come to pick me up?” 

“Don’t get the wrong idea, my mom asked me to help my uncle out with something so I happened to be in the area,” he tells Hinata. “It’s just easier to make sure you haven’t overslept.”

Hinata nods his head, accepting the answer. “All right.” At this, he takes note of the distance between them, the way their footfalls move in different rhythms, and thinks back to Natsu’s words. _You’re going to kiss him within the next two years._ When Hinata laughs, Kageyama turns to him and offers a suspicious pout.

“And what’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Hinata says, clearing his throat. “Absolutely nothing.”

 

 

 

**_x. coin purse (one-hundred yen, straight into hinata natsu’s hands)_ **

When Hinata hands his money over one year later to Natsu, she laughs about the band-aid on his face, pats his cheek lightly, and gladly pockets her earnings.

“So, how did it happen?” 

Hinata perks up at the question and smiles wide.

“He crashed my bike and he paid the price with his _first kiss._ ”

 

 

 

**_xi. ferris wheel (tokyo, japan)_ **

When Kageyama announces that he’s been on a Ferris wheel just once before, Hinata learns that _firsts_ can be a horrible affair. Under the whir of Tokyo Dome City’s hustle and bustle, the sights and smells, the taiko drums, the pop music over the speakers, Hinata watches Kageyama’s lips move, imagines a whole other world instead, and wishes he could’ve been there to drag him out of it.

“I mean, it wasn’t _all_ bad.”

Hinata paints the scene just as Kageyama tells it. It was during his time in Kitagawa Daiichi, third year, and summer, just before his last training camp. First, Hinata fills in the nice parts of the trip with every short anecdote: the best _sata andagi_ Kageyama’s ever had to eat, the peculiar hue of a pink city sky, blinking lights, and a sought after carnival prize. (“ _I won that giant bear without a problem_ ,” the setter says, because if his pinpoint accuracyhad to translate into any other skills, ring tossing would be it). Kageyama lights up ever so slightly when he talks about such things, something Hinata can make out from the small rise in his voice, the stifled way he mashes his mouth together.

But then he gets to talking about the other things. How he had to eat the _sata andagi_ himself. The park attendant asking if Kageyama had anyone else to play ring-toss with. Kindaichi and Kunimi pairing up for _everything_ , _Thunder Dolphin_ included, and how everyone else had a partner for all the other rides, too. How Kageyama just left the his first chance at getting on a roller coaster altogether, because no one would sit with him and other people were waiting in line behind him. Hinata takes it all in, turns the sparse details into something palpable, _bitter_ , honestly _,_ and hopes that no one ever has to feel the way Kageyama did.

In finality, Hinata even imagines Kageyama lugging a giant bear onto the Ferris Wheel instead, making it all the way to the top with it sitting across from him, and coming back down with nothing else to be said. _I don’t care,_ written across frown lines. 

"Did you bring it with you?" Hinata asks. "To the Ferris wheel?"

Kageyama looks up at the Ferris wheel once more, preens his head back like it's issuing a challenge, and turns back to Hinata.

"Did I bring _what_?"

" _The bear_."

“Just forget about the bear!” Kageyama shrugs and walks on, and Hinata just follows after. It never takes him long to catch up to Kageyama on the asphalt, something he takes immense pride in, because for the year and a half he’s called him _amazing,_ or watched him grace the court, Hinata knows that he can stand next to him as an equal, too. So when he watches their steps fall into unison, reluctant to sync but ending up that way anyway, Hinata doesn’t fight the rhythm. He walks on, breathes in, and dares to think, _I’m here with a friend today._

_Friend._

Kageyama: the boy from back then, playing toss-the-rings by himself. Eating _sata andagi_ alone. Missing the likes of the _Thunder Dolphin_ and riding on the Ferris wheel, by himself, to the top. Never daring to look down. 

Hinata takes in the biggest gulp of air, gets the greatest idea, and picks up his pace on the road. He challenges Kageyama to follow along. “Where are you going?” the setter asks in turn, running after the middle blocker, nearly crashing into passersby, and Hinata just flashes a smile, unabashed, over his shoulder.

“Race me to the Ferris wheel! Let’s get on, together!”

And when Hinata speeds up on the sidewalk, not letting the either one of them stop ‘till they get there, he feels something beat up against the wall of his chest, strong and uneasy but ready. Something Hinata still can’t put into words. He knows it is supposed to weaken, be the type of thing that leaves people with numbed fingertips and heated cheeks, a death by lightness, but Hinata just thinks of it as extra incentive to get there. He speeds up, runs as fast as he can to meet Tokyo Dome City’s one and only Ferris wheel, and points up like they’ve got heaven ahead. 

“Ready?” Hinata asks when he finds the front of the line, still catching his breath.

“ _Ready_ ,” Kageyama answers with a grin, like he’ll never find his again.

 

 

 

**_xii. the confines of a time capsule (karasuno high school)_ **

When he wipes off the dirt, unfurls the plastic wrapping, and uncovers their memories, twenty-six year old Hinata Shouyou unearths a hidden world and sits against the fence to admire his findings. At the very bottom, he gawks at his old volleyball shoes, with its familiar streaks of thunderbird redand open-mouthed soles. He smiles at the group photo from their first year at Karasuno, the stray Tikachu band-aids, the expired _buy-one-get-one-free_ meat bun coupons, the passing test scores, old black kneepads, and the laundry tags from old jerseys. Hinata sets all of it aside delicately, wonders how important things can always stand the test of time like this, and seeks to cherish it for years to come.

Picking up his shoes to admire them once again, Hinata finds something stuck to one of the soles and peels it off.

It is a brochure for the Tokyo Dome City _,_ and Hinata immediately remembers the rush of the _Thunder Dolphin_ under him. He scrunches his hand into a fist when he remembers how he had taken Kageyama’s hand that day, right at the second drop, all to get him to touch the sky, too. Trying not to sigh, he thinks about how much he’d like to hold that hand now too, feels his hands ache in shaking, and tells himself to forget such things. 

“You cheater.” 

Hinata tries not to get too riled up at the voice, turns to face Kageyama, and offers him the nastiest frown he can manage. Moments later, the feint crumbles into something that wants to both smile and shout, so Hinata recoils into mashed lips and the resolve _to not speak to Kageyama Tobio._

“We weren’t supposed to open that capsule for another—what? _Ten years_?” Kageyama asks, sitting next to him and taking the memorabilia into his hands. He takes Hinata’s second shoe and runs his hand across the red streak with a smile before pairing it with the other half.

Hinata shrugs. “The worms would’ve gotten to them by then.”

“Worms don’t eat sneakers.”

“Worms are strange things, Kageyama. You don’t know what they’re capable of.” At this, Hinata laughs at himself and stifles the urge to keep going, because he’s still mad at Kageyama and intends to let him know it. 

Kageyama rolls his eyes and musses Hinata’s hair, getting closer anyway. Hinata lets him inch closer, only because old reflexes are hard to kill and bodies are prone to habit. Over the years, the two have become adjusted to a certain kind of space, just the smallest kind of distance, and with that comes the impossibility of making gulfs. Soon, even their hands are linked again, and Hinata peers up at him like they’ve hit a moon’s new phase.

“Sorry,” he says to Hinata. “We don’t have to watch _Kakeru’s Volleyball Seven_ if you don’t want to.”

“I’m over it,” Hinata says, letting out a small laugh and digging into the box. “And that’s one of the things, actually.” He throws two ripped admission stubs at Kageyama and stares out at the field before them, where they once practiced receives as near-strangers. At the sight of the tickets, Kageyama blinks, mutters something about _never getting to thank Sugawara for that gift certificate,_ and keeps them pinched between his fingers in the smallest bout of embarrassment.

“Sometimes, it feels like we lived a whole other life here,” Hinata says, sighing. “You know, when I was hiding from you before, I ran to every place we shared together...the riverbank where you crashed by bike, the back steps. We did a lot, I guess.”

Kageyama’s forehead forms wrinkles when he thinks about it. “I don’t know, I think we’re still doing plenty.” 

“No doubt about that, either,” Hinata hums out. “It’s just a lot to think about. We might be getting _old,_ Kageyama.”

“ _Hey, now_.” 

“I’m just kidding.”

The two of them sit together in silence, letting the crickets eat up the air with their chirps. Overhead, the clouds show themselves out for a clear night in Miyagi, and all around them the air smells like heat's rust with a hint of jasmine. Hinata breathes this world in as Kageyama sorts through their mementos, his hands looking as nimble as when they're setting, and his smile is just as delicate when he finds each new keepsake.

"Here," Hinata asks, handing the brochure over. "Did you see this one? I don't remember putting this one in the capsule."

Kageyama takes the advertisement for Tokyo Dome City for himself, traces his fingers along the line of the thunder dolphin's curves, and smiles like he's proud. He tells Hinata, "because I'm the one that put it there," and hands it back to him. 

"Really?"

Kageyama nods and lifts himself from his place in the dirt, stretching from a day of searching for Hinata. Over the years, the setter has only gotten stronger, _bigger_ , to help house their dreams, but Hinata can't help but see lightness on his shoulders, past every centimeter grown and new record reached—all from the boy who once said he'd play volleyball by himself, miles upon miles away, to someone who's gotten a bit closer by now. Kageyama, coming down the hill on the Thunder Dolphin. Kageyama, waiting at the bottom of a bike path in autumn. _Kageyama_ , erasing anything that calls itself distance.

At the thought, Hinata thinks about the small spaces he can make, too. He thinks about the boy at the other side of the dirt again, ball pressed to his chest, not ready to give to up. And even though they haven't brought a ball to toss around this time, Hinata knows they've got more that to connect their worlds by now. _Hell,_ if astronauts or scientists had to observe something new, name some sort of unfounded phenomena like rising lightning or hurricanes on the surface of Venus, they could get the two of them to fill it. Because if scientists were to observe the pull between Kageyama and Hinata, they would see two planets gradually inching closer together in their trajectory. _Come here, and let's crash together,_ the both of them say to each other, neither one of them stopping to lead, like two great anomalies coming to meet in the middle.

Just this time though, Hinata bounds up from the dirt and presses himself closer next to Kageyama, arm to arm, hands casually held, and raises himself to press a small kiss on his cheek. He looks away after that, clasps his arms around his back, and shouts up to the sky. 

“I like you!”

At this, Kageyama blushes full on red like he's sixteen again, covers his mouth with the back of his hand, and ends up hiding a laugh under it anyway. Hinata thinks that their time back at home was never meant for such serious things. For tonight, and all the nights yet to come, _may bickering be damned and may fights fall apart._

"I like you, Kageyama Tobio!"

_And may I get to stand next to you, for a long time to come._

"What was that for?" Kageyama asks, pulling Hinata closer to him. In return, Hinata goes back to the capsule to retrieve the Tokyo Dome City brochure. He holds it up to the Miyagi night, unfurling the full page spread for the fireflies to see, and pretends that they're in Tokyo again. On the horizon, he reimagines the spinning light of a Ferris wheel, a cart barely lifted from its dock, and a very honest boy on the other side of their compartment. At once, Kageyama catches on, stares on too, and traces the stars like he’s building his own version of the _Thunder Dolphin._

“I didn’t think you’d remember something like that,” he says.

“Oh, I remember a lot of things,” Hinata hums. "And that's something you can't easily forget."

"What? Because no one has ever confessed to you on a Ferris wheel before?"

"No one had confessed to me, _ever._ I thought we went over this. Maybe you're the one getting senile here, Kageyama." 

"What?"

"You heard me, _To-bi-o,_ " Hinata teases.

And like flipping through a scrapbook, to a page hardly—but fondly—visited, Hinata remembers the first slope on the _Thunder Dolphin,_ and way Kageyama dipped his chin down before letting himself scream. _Heart out._ In dreaming, Hinata watches sixteen year old Kageyama Tobio smile wide and wild and willing again, seeks to find the same a near decade later, and finds that such gestures are easier to come by. In a habit never broken, and because bodies are used to routine, Hinata presses the small curve of Kageyama’s mouth, the slight crinkle in his eye, and makes another page for their record books. 

"I like you too, Hinata Shouyou."

(And when Kageyama runs down the fields of Karasuno High School, empty and just ready to be run on, he takes Hinata’s arm up in the air to close the distance, to be held for as long as hands _can_ be held, and lets him feel the rush of the world around them, too.)

 


End file.
